Crik (60 page)

Curling his finger
s
, Jack watched the sun dried mud on his hand crack. Rubbing together his forefinger and thumb powdered the dirt. His trailing hand dragged a heavy shovel; its metal head scuffed the earthen track in a snaking line, which if followed, would lead all the way back to Long Sleep. Another day of filling in graves had left him exhausted; his back ached, his hands had splinters from working the shovel, and his shoulders refused to bend. Beside him Yang strode effortlessly along, the shadow carried his own shovel, this one slung over his shoulder. Jack cast a sullen glance over to his twin. He would like to have shadow limbs instead of aching muscles and sore joints. The knowledge that without Yang’s help he would still be ankle deep in the boggy ground beside the Tristle alleviated none of his envy. Although the dead had obeyed Inara to return to their graves, the villagers had to fill in those graves, and dig new ones. In the two weeks since the battle, the grave detail had managed to inter all those Inara had called forth, until only a few remained. Some of the adults had spoken against his being part of the crew working the graveyard. Needing the distraction the work offered he had feared they would stop him. His mother had yet to come out of her coma. Dr Threshum kept assuring him of the likelihood of his mother waking up, stating, in his mellow voice, her injuries were not as serious as he had once feared. Then why were her eyes still closed? It baffled him, and in time, his confusion had turned to frustration and annoyance.

They burnt the bodies of the Myrms in a large pyre, well away from the village. The black billowing smoke from that conflagration had inked the sky for almost two days. Closer to home sat a new, smaller cemetery, for those who had fallen during the fighting. Jack did not like to think of how many headstones had sprung up in that patch of ground. Again, he gave thanks to the volunteers for taking on such a difficult task. He had not raised his hand to help them.

Stepping from the well-trodden path, he cut into the high grass to follow a second path, only the children knew about, or at the least used. This new path took him past a number of hiding places that had hid a number of children two weeks prior. He noticed a place where the impression of a hunkered body still bent the grass out of shape. Perhaps Buckleseed - the boy had told him how he had laid low during that night. The boy’s parents, thinking him dead, were frantic with worry, when the scamp ran from cover at midmorning. Admiring Buckleseed’s quick action, he almost didn’t hear the familiar voice carry through the grass. Picking up his speed he almost crashed into Bill and Inara; both rested against a wheelbarrow.

Bill, his hair mussed up, and his clothes covered in stone dust, appraised Jack’s sudden appearance with a start. Dust filled the air, making Black sneeze.

‘You almost made me drop my stones,’ accused Bill. Pale stone filled the wheelbarrow to its brim.

‘Hey Jack, Yang,’ said Inara.

She looks better, thought Jack. He had feared the exertion of raising all those bodies had messed her mind up for good. She slept for almost four days, making him panic that she would follow his mother into a coma. Colour had returned to her cheeks, and the marks of strain, though still apparent on her face, were no longer deep.

‘Hi Inara,’ he said in greeting. ‘You having another break?’ he asked Bill, eyeing the stationary wheelbarrow with an upraised eyebrow.

Bill almost tripped over his words. ‘I’ve pushed these stones from one end of town to the other. If you don’t believe me the wheel has left a furrow so deep in your garden you can shoot marbles down it.’

‘When you took the doll to Knell I bet you never expected it would lead to this,’ said Jack.

‘I blame my grandfather. He just had to come through the tree with me. Thought I’d run away or something.’

‘You did once,’ pointed out Inara.

‘That’s not true,’ said Bill, indignantly. He ruffled Black’s shaggy coat. ‘I did not run away; I went to get my wolf. When Grandpa spoke with Knell, I played on the swing in her yard. Later, Knell led Grandpa out of the house and into the Scorn Scar. She took him through the town to the quarry. It was his idea to bring back the quarry stone to help rebuild the village. I had nothing to do with it.’

‘I hear Dwayne’s parents have decided to remain in the Scorn Scar,’ said Jack. ‘Before long there won’t be enough people left in Crik to need houses.’

Inara shrugged. ‘Those who lived in the shadow of the mountain moved on when the birds arrived. Your people may as well use the houses they abandoned. Bill’s home is the only one left standing after the fire.’

‘There’s plenty of room in my house for others,’ said Bill. ‘Apart from you two, no one else wants to stay with my grandmother. There is your mother of course.’ He cast a guilty glance at Jack.

‘They’ll come around,’ said Jack.

‘After what Justice and her sisters did to them you can’t blame them for being wary.’

Bill winced at Inara’s words. ‘If not for my grandmother you would have arrived too late to help us. No one says anything to her face; they just keep their distance. I have no doubt that some went through the tree to get away from her.’

‘If they did, they can stay at the Scorn Scar,’ said Inara. ‘Good riddance to them. I don’t care what people think about me, and neither does your Gran.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Bill. ‘By coming here the Ghost Walkers revealed my grandmother’s secret. All her life she feared people knowing what she is.’ Falling quiet, he looked through the tall grass in the direction of his home. ‘The Ghost Walkers sucked more than her light when they attacked, they stole her secret. She’s now so old and frail’

Jack laughed. ‘I saw her shout at Mr Gasthem for dumping a pile of stones atop her lilies. The Elder almost skipped out of his trousers; he looked like a small boy reprimanded for stealing a hot cake. Although your Gran is many things, frail is not one of them.’

‘There are times I catch sight of her standing in silence; sometimes for minutes at a time. Each time I try to talk to Grandpa about it, he just tells me to stop worrying. Even Wolf looks older since our return.’

‘He was always an old dog,’ said Jack, trying to lift Bill’s dipping mood. He had hoped his friend would lift his own disposition, not pull it to the ground.

‘Well, he’s here.’ Bill regarded Inara with impatience. ‘Are you going to tell me your big secret, or do we have to wait for someone else?’

Perplexed, Jack looked from Bill to Inara. Her fingers coiled in Black’s wiry hair. Whatever she has to say is making her nervous. Yang, also aware of her anxiety, dropped his shovel, straddled the wolf, and crossed his arms around Inara’s waist.

Her fingernails, nibbled down to the quick, drummed against Yang’s arms. ‘It is happening so fast I don’t know how to say it,’ she began, now hesitant. ‘Did you notice how many people were here during the attack? There were far more than what you led me to believe. Crik is a small village.’

‘There are always people coming in,’ replied Jack. ‘Some come to the market to sell their wares. Others come to buy the best beef for a hundred miles.’

‘My grandfather says we have the darkest ale,’ boasted Bill, though both he and Jack, who having tasted the foul stuff for themselves, could never understand how anyone could enjoy the drink, let alone make a special trip to get it.

‘The village attracts people,’ agreed Inara. ‘There are many reasons why they come. I heard that this is the oldest village in Crik Wood.’

Jack, knowing the patter of Igneous Fowlt, an ancient merchant, who sold even older clocks, gave a nod. He still did not grasp where Inara was going with this.

‘There are a lot of different reasons why people come here.’ She grew more pensive. ‘Yet, there are even more reasons to move on. The woods are larger than what we know. Wondrous things grow and live outside the boundary of your home. Discovering the Wold taught us that much.’

‘It taught us how dangerous the woods are,’ countered Bill.

‘Impressions are more treacherous. Until he found out his Narmacil was not a demon, Jack wanted to kill Yang. Misguided notions started this entire mess. Fearing the Ghost Walkers led your village to do cruel things to those they loved. In turn, the Ghost Walkers of the Red Wood wanted to destroy this village, to erase any threat to them. If we always choose to mistrust before accepting the differences in others, we will have learnt nothing from our experiences.’

‘What are you saying? Do you want to leave, to go on another adventure?’

Inara shook her head at Jack’s question. ‘No. At least not yet,’ she quickly amended, cryptically. She chewed her lower lip. ‘The old man who sells the clocks, the one who said this is the oldest village in Crik.’ Her hands clutched Yang for support. ‘He says he knows the mouth of Silvertree River. My parents live along its bank. Most days father fishes its waters. Massive salmon swim with rainbow trout, and whitefish.’ Tears collected on her chin, held, and then fell to her chest. ‘Igneous, promised to take me to the river. He’s travelling with a hunter named Oslen.’

‘I know them both.’ Emotion raged inside Jack. Was he going to lose Inara, as he was losing his mother? With her gone, the village would become hollow indeed. ‘Oslen is a good man, he carves small figurines. He helped out at Long Sleep.’ He rambled to buy more time.

‘When are you thinking of going?’

Jack wanted to strike Bill for asking the question he dreaded. She would now have to tell them. His chest contracted as though instead of him shovelling dirt on the dead at Long Sleep, he lay at the bottom of a deep hole, with a leering corpse shovelling clods of dirt atop him.

‘They want to leave today.’

The words clamoured in Jack’s head. Today, she cannot go today, she hasn’t prepared for the journey. Where were her provisions, food, drink, warm clothes for the cold weather? All his objections remained trapped in his throat. How could he deny her the opportunity of reuniting with her family? He would give anything for his mother to recover, to show her that he was safe. He could not, would not, stop Inara from having her wish. Not again, he scolded himself. Still, protests wanted to spill from him. She had not recovered from the rigours of confronting the Ghost Walkers. She had yet to speak to his mother. His jaws clamped shut, hard.

‘I know this has come as a shock,’ she said. ‘Two days ago I was too weak to leave the house.’ Biting down on her lip, she noted Jack’s sullen silence. ‘When will I get a better chance than this? The trackers are leaving with the rest through the tree. The Scorn Scar is a lot farther from home than it is from here. Igneous promises to have me home within a week.’

‘I know...’ Jack started to say, and then stopped. ‘Will you need to take Black?’ His heart hammered. ‘Bill will have to go with you if you do.’ He did not want them both to go. Fear took hold. If Bill went away, he would have no one.

‘Calm down Yin, I’m not going anywhere.’ Bill laughed. ‘It’d be a toss-up who would stop me first, Gran or Grandpa. These days Grandpa rarely leaves me alone.’ Anxious, he looked through the tall weeds for the silver-haired man. ‘No, Black is staying with me. At least until things settle down. Eventually I’ll take him back to the woods and set him free. Perhaps he’ll find his pack. All this talk about families has made me feel guilty for taking him away from his life.’

Patting Black, Inara said, ‘Black is as much a part of our family as any he left behind.’

Family. With his mother in a coma, that word had taken on special resonance. Looking at Bill’s dusty face, and the troubled expression on Inara’s, Jack knew she was right. ‘We are family,’ he said. ‘Me, Bill, Black, Inara,’ he regarded Yang, lingering before stating his name with affection. ‘I made you go through so much, and in the process almost got everyone killed.’

‘Secrets,’ said Inara, ‘make people lose trust. Without that, they question everything.’

‘Mr Gasthem promises to tell every child in the village how they get their Talents,’ said Bill.

‘According to him, everyone knows on their eighteenth birthday,’ said Jack. Why the Elders wanted to wait so long, he could not understand. If everyone knew when they were small kids, they’d swallow the idea like chicks flying from the nest. No big deal. Finding out as he did, no wonder he had gone crazy. Remembering Bill’s Narmacil transforming on his desk, still unnerved him.

‘You should’ve listened to me Jack,’ said Inara. ‘I am older than you and quite obviously wiser as well.’